


Bum's Rush

by Blithe_Novelties



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Crime, Gen, Multi, Other, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blithe_Novelties/pseuds/Blithe_Novelties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The woman was called Five, or, more specifically, Runner Five; Hooch called all of "the girls" who helped him with his business by whatever number he had picked them off the streets by-she was the fifth one he added to his claim of bootleggers, thus, she gained the name she was currently known by. 1920's Prohibition AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bum's Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with this AU, along with the two others for another fandom of mine, instead of neglecting it. Anyway, this is a 1920's Prohibition AU, and so, there are going to be some slang (and probably some references to popular media, if I get on the ball) that may or may not be familiar to you.
> 
> Which is why, in the author's notes, I'll be posting little translations to make comprehension easier. (If I have made a mistake anywhere, feel free to correct me.)
> 
>  _Bum's rush:_ to be ejected from a place by use of force
> 
>  _Hooch:_ illegal liquor
> 
>  _Speakeasies:_ "hidden" bars where illegal liquor was sold; usually, they were back rooms or basements of public places
> 
>  _Giggle water:_ alcohol
> 
>  _Dumb Dora:_ stupid woman
> 
>  _Bootleggers:_ ones who sneaked in the illegal liquor (sometimes female), by hiding it under their clothes
> 
>  _Pigs:_ a derogatory name for the police
> 
>  _Bull:_ lies/nonsense
> 
> ...It is also worth mentioning that the character's are immigrants (as thought up by Kas and Emma, two very wonderful new friends of mine) and that Runner Five is a woman, yet again.
> 
> Zombies, Run! belongs to its rightful owners.

_“You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.”  
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby_

**Chapter One:**

"Doll," he took a drag of his cigar, allowing the smoke to blow into the young woman's face. "You know that your behavior was...unacceptable?"

She flinched, and, while her eyes watered, while her nose twitched, she absolutely refused to cough; doing so would only satisfy him, something that wasn't exactly on her list of things to accomplish. 

The man raised a dark brow-almost as if he were waiting for her to react-took another puff, and flicked aside some ashes gathering on the tip, not caring that they were landing on his  expensive mahogany desk or anywhere else for that matter.

The only thing he received as a reply was silence. 

"Hooch" was what he was known as in the underground system of speakeasies in Mullins  (every single one under his control) a title that was given to him by his friends and associates from the amount of illegal liquor he passed from one set of hands to another, and it was doubtful that anyone knew the man's true name. 

Not that they cared-all anyone cared about was the alcohol he could get them-from the light giggle water to the stuff that was rumored to be so hard that even the biggest drinkers could hardly stomache it. 

Some said that he was horrible, a murderer (that didn't stop them from going to him for "the goods", however), and others thought that he was a savior for doing what he did...but there was one, tact agreement that had always been there once they had either enjoyed his service, or helped bring it about-regardless of whether they had met him or not- _no one_  kept silent when he asked them a question.

_"Now, listen here, you Dumb Dora,"_  in a matter of seconds, Hooch was on his feet, his chair sliding back behind him. He made his way to her side, being sure that his lips were close enough to her ear to brush the skin as he spoke next, in that soft whisper long since known to mean danger to all who had the misfortune of hearing it.  "When I ask you a question, you answer it, see?"

The woman addressed was called Five, or, more specifically, Runner Five; Hooch called all of "the girls" who helped him with his business by whatever number he had picked them off the streets by-she was the fifth one he added to his claim of bootleggers, thus, she gained the name she was currently known by. 

The "runner" bit was more of an inside joke than to stake a claim; it was tacked on to the beginning by how well they could avoid the cops and how quickly, how smoothly they could sneak in the alcohol he'd sent them to get. You only became one if you were fast enough that you didn't have enough close calls with the pigs that would make you suspicious enough to blow your cover, and, at this moment, Hooch had over a few hundred runners in his control.

Five doubted he even knew her name, knew any of their names (despite several of them attempting to tell him in the beginning) and wouldn't suprised if it turned out to be true. Hell, even _she_ could hardly remember her own name these days; she'd been called Five for far too long for her to even recognize the sound of it.

"I don't see what the problem is," she finally answered, voice steady as she struggled to keep her gaze trained on anything in the room but him, as she tried to focus on the fact that he was far too close for her to be comfortable.

"You don't, do you?" he began to play with her hair, her locks cut short as was the fashion at the time. Five resisted the urge to pull away, to give him any sort of power over her; if she did, he'd only get worse-she'd seen it happen to the others.

"No, I...I don't."

 _"Bull,"_ the man hissed, yanking his hand away, tugging at her hair as he did so, causing her to yelp in surprise. "You know exactly what the problem is, you little-"

"He tried to grab at me, Hooch. What was I supposed to let him do-strip my clothes off with everyone watching?" At this, she turned her head towards him, loathing in her eyes. "Because if I was, that's a hell of a way to pay me back for my hard work."

"You broke the man's damn wrist, Five." His hands gripping tight at her shoulders, he spun her around violently, wanting to keep her in front of him. "What do you think he's going to tell his friends? That Hooch is letting his girls hurt the customers, _that's_ what. Word'll get out, and you and I-all of us-will be without work."

"Maybe once they realized that Hooch is threatening his girls, won't want anything to do with him and his liquor," she shot back.

One hand flew up to her chin, pulling her face towards him in his rage that it was a wonder her neck hadn't broken, "Now, you listen to me, _sweetheart._  If I _ever_ hear that you attacked another customer again, I'll toss you to the streets. Got that?"

Hate boiling through her blood, Five did the only thing her muddled mind would allow her think of doing-she spit in his face.


End file.
